


To Fail Is To Try

by superchester



Series: Indiana Blues [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Family Issues, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, and a little bit of side Sam/Sarah, emotional break downs, just some bromance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 00:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3360737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superchester/pseuds/superchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's really trying to pull his dad, (and himself) out of the rut they're in, but when he fails repeatedly, he's not so sure he can keep getting back up. Not on his own.</p><p>He just wants Sam to have a good life, can't he just give him that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Fail Is To Try

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sulli (Cas_Dean_and_Sammy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cas_Dean_and_Sammy/gifts).



Failure is the proof of your effort, not the result. You must choose to keep on failing forward.

-

The promise he made to Sam sits like a dead weight in his chest every time he breaks it. 

He tries, you know? Dean. Tries.

It’s just really fucking hard not to take a drink after a long day at work with crabby customers and a long day at home with a crabby father.

Dean tried to get Dad some help. Get him to quit the binge drinking and start acting like an early grave was preferable to the company of his sons. But Dad’s stubborn. And Dad’s- well, Dad’s a mean, old drunk that’s driving Dean to drink.

The tumblr full of whiskey in his hand right now is proof.

-

But Sam cries and Sam begs and Dean loves his whiny, nosey, insistent, spoiled little brother so he keeps on trying. 

He keeps on and keeps on and keeps on until one day he wakes up, hungover and guilt ridden because he broke his promise again, when he realizes they can’t be this way anymore.

Ten minutes later he’s pouring all the alcohol in the house down the drain (for the 100th time) with renewed determination. He calls Uncle Bobby, asks for the day off to get some things sorted, and gets to work cleaning the entire house. Right down to the grungy floor boards.

Their home, while run down, could be back in perfectly good shape with a little care and hard work, and with that thought in mind Dean cleans until his hands are pruny and peeling.

And when he’s done cleaning? He stomps purposefully into his Dad’s room.

He practically upends the bed to get Dad out of it, but eventually he’s got Dad up and moving in the direction of the bathroom to get cleaned up.

Dad’s still too bleary to really do much more than grumble in protest as Dean sits him on the closed toilet. Dean grabs a wash cloth and twists the sink tap on as high as it will go, shoving the cloth under it. 

He slaps it, unceremoniously, onto his dad’s face. “I dumped out all the liquor.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest and staring Dad down. It’s a little challenging since Dad’s in the process of wiping his face down, but Dean makes it work.

“We’re not doing this anymore, Dad. I mean it this time.” Dean leans back against the bathroom wall, waiting for Dad to explode. 

Only, Dad doesn’t. So Dean nudges him with his toe to get his attention. “Dad, hey, Dad, can you listen to me for a second?”

His dad sighs loudly, dropping the washcloth in the sink, “I heard ya, kid.”

Dean tightens his arms, bracing himself. 

“Look, Dean-” Dad shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head, “You don’t understand-”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Dad, don’t. Don’t tell me I don’t understand, okay? You have no right to say that to me.” There’s anger burning in him, swelling and burning deep in his stomach. 

Dad fixes hard eyes on Dean, “I don’t know where you picked up that tone, Dean, but-”

“My tone, Dad?” Dean can’t believe this. “My fucking tone?”

Dean throws his head back and outright laughs, he cannot believe this.

“Now you listen to me, Dean-” Dad starts, somehow managing to look intimidating from the toilet seat. But Dean isn’t having any of it. Not anymore.

He pushes off the wall, shoulders tense, “No, you listen to me, Dad. We aren’t doing this anymore. No more drinking or wallowing or, or, damn it, can’t you just-” Dean breathes out forcibly, swallowing against the rising lump in his throat. He catches his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his eyes are red and swimming, “Look Dad, you just, you gotta pull it together, you have to... help me pull it together because I can’t,” he coughs, choked up and embarrassed that he’s practically falling apart in a bathroom with his dad.

He shakes his head pressing his knuckles into his eyes, “Losing Mom was-” Dean’s definitely falling apart now, “It was really hard for you and I get that, I do, it’s hard for me too, but d-don’t you see? I’m l-lost both of you and I don’t want Sammy to go through-”

Dean has to stop because he’s choking on sobs and this is just something other than he had planned it to be and he doesn’t know how he’s going to come back from this let alone look his dad in the eye again and-

Dean freezes.

He freezes because Dad is, Dad is hugging him.

Dean lets out a shaky breath, then another, and another and the next thing he knows he’s got his arms wrapped around Dad’s back and he’s crying pathetically into his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Dad says, patting Dean on the back, “You’re fine, son.”

“Please just-” Dean whispers, not sure how to finish his sentence.

Dad rubs his back, “Okay. Alright.” 

-

After that things get, not great, but...easier.

Dad starts drying out on his own, despite the offer to help pay for rehab from Bobby. It’s dangerous, but when Dean goes to Bobby about it Bobby tells him everything’s gonna be fine and to “stop worryin’, ya idjit”.

And eventually, Dean stops.

Dad’s starts working for a construction company in town, and in his time off he and Dean and Sam start repairing the house, room by room, fixing the things that fell apart when they were falling apart.

Now that the pressure of paying bills and making ends meet has mostly been lifted off of Dean’s shoulders he finds himself with a lot more free time. Usually he uses the time to sleep in late or get up early and make a big breakfast for Dad and Sam, but today he worked the morning shift and he’s got the afternoon off so he decides to pick up Sam from school. It’s a Friday afternoon, maybe Sam will let Dean take him out for burgers or something.

He pulls up at the curb outside of Sam’s school, lining up behind the minivans and SUVs and soccer moms waiting to pick their kids up from school. 

He turns up Simple Man and leans back in his seat, tapping his fingers on the bottom of the steering wheel. 

Sam comes strolling out eventually, talking to a pretty girl with black hair and a round face. Dean’s eyebrows raise when the girl leans across the small amount of space between them to kiss Sam’s cheek. 

Dean can see that his brother’s cheeks are fire engine red. He’d bet everything he owns that the poor guy’s stuttering and sweating as he gets out his goodbye.

Eventually Sam makes his way to the passenger side, opening the door and sliding onto the bench seat beside Dean.

Dean opens his mouth.

“Shut up.” Sam mutters, slouching down and crossing his arms.

He looks like the chubby 12-year-old he used to be, so Dean grants him mercy, ruffling his overgrown hair and keeping his teasing to himself.

“How come I’m not taking the bus today,” Sam asks finally, breaking the comfortable silence they’d had going since they’d left the school.

Dean turns the music down a little. “I had the afternoon off,” he shrugs, “Figured I’d take you out for burgers or something.”

Sam eyes him suspiciously. “Did Dad start drinking again?” he asks quietly, fidgeting with the zip on his bag, no longer looking at Dean.

“No, Sam, jeez,” he tries to let the comment roll off his back like it isn’t an entirely too real possibility. It hurts that Sam automatically assumes good things are never just good things. “Can’t I just take my little brother out for a burger?” he asks, taking his eyes off the road to glance at Sam, pinching his cheek just to bug him.

Sam shrugs and just, no, okay, this outing is to make Sam happy. 

“Hey,” Dean says, not entirely sure what to follow it up with. He works his jaw and grips the steering wheel tightly for a moment. “Look, Dad’s doing pretty good, me too, as a matter of fact. Things are gonna be better, okay? Maybe not all the times, but… right now, things are good. And when they go bad, we’ll, well we’ll just have to fix it again.” 

He takes another look at Sam, “Okay?” he asks, nudging Sam in the shoulder. 

Sam nods, “Okay.”

Dean ruffles his hair again. “Alright, enough of that. Tell me about that girl you were laying the moves on. Or was she laying the moves on you?” He pinches Sam in the ribs where Dean knows he’s ticklish. Laughing when Sam’s groan cuts off into a shriek. 

He does it again.  
“Stop!” Sam slaps Dean’s hand away when he goes for another pinch. “Dean, knock it off!”

“Well? Tell me her name, Romeo,” Dean prompts, trying to keep a straight face. 

Sam is slouching in his seat again, trying to look put out, but he mumbles, “Sarah,” after a couple of seconds.

“Oooooo, Sarah,” Dean coos obnoxiously, making kissy faces at Sam.

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam grumbles. 

Catching Sam’s embarrassed reflection in the rear view mirror, Dean decides to hold off on any more jokes. “You like this girl?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the road so that Sam feels a little less on the spot.

He waits patiently for Sam’s answer. 

“She’s really cool, Dean.” 

Dean bites back a smile, trying to look casual as he takes the turn into their favorite diner, “Oh yeah?”

Sam blows out a breath, “Yeah. Her dad’s an art dealer in New York, but she’s here for the year because her mom and her step-dad live here.” 

Dean parks, “What’s she like?” he asks as they get out of the car.

Sam has a starstruck, lovesick look on his face when he describes just how ‘pretty’ and how ‘kind’ Sarah is.

He keeps up his praise for the girl until their food is steaming in front of them and he has to stop talking to shovel food into his mouth. 

“So it sounds to me like you should ask this girl on a date before some other guy notices how perfect she is.” Dean comments between chewing french fries.

Sam chokes on his water.

“I can’t just ask her out, Dean,” he hisses across the table, face flaring red. 

Dean can’t help it, he laughs at Sam’s outraged expression. “Why not, Fabio, from that little goodbye she gave you it looks to me like she’s waiting for you to nut up and ask her out.”

Sam chews his burger looking contemplative. “You think so?” he asks finally. And Dean is painfully aware of how much Sam cares about this girl. 

“Are you kidding me? What girl wouldn’t want a catch like you?” He kicks Sam’s foot under the table.

Sam takes another bite of his burger, “I don’t know, Dean, she’s like, really awesome. What would she want to do with me?”

Ah, now Dean knows why the kid hasn’t made a move yet. Insecurity is a contagious bitch.

“Sammy, listen to me, don’t ever think you aren’t good enough. If this girl is half as great as you think she is, she’ll say yes in a heart beat. And if she doesn’t, then she wasn’t the one for you.”

Sam looks down at his food. “You think so?” he asks his french fries.

Dean sighs heavily, reaching out to put the palm of his hand on Sam’s head, “I know so. Now eat up. We can go home and have a Star Wars marathon tonight. I’ll even get some ice cream before we go home.”

Sam brightens, digging into his meal with renewed vigor. 

Dean stops for a moment, smiles, shakes his head, then gets back to eating too.

He feels… good.

**Author's Note:**

> Extremely unbeta'd, sorry!
> 
> I've been struggling to write this piece, mostly because I have a very vague idea of where I want this verse to go and no idea how I'm going to get it there. I hope it's not too noticeable.
> 
> Thank you for reading! And if you have the time, leave me a comment letting me know what you think! I'd love to hear it!
> 
> I gift this work to Sulli (Cas_Dean_Sammy) because at the time I started writing it I was reading all of her amazing work and it inspired me! Also I loved talking back and forth with another fic writer. I'm new to AO3 and I really felt apart of the community when we were talking.


End file.
